Some days of mine the weather makes, some days the weather mars
I’m at the mercy of cold fronts, dew points and isobars
Nature turns the valve upon its skyward water butt
And I dash for shelter, hop, skip, jump! Into the Dolphin Hut
The morning’s weather was a fascinating mix of sun and rain as I walked up to Durlston this morning, pleasantly warm rays filtering through a fine mist of water droplets. After such rich precipitation I naturally decided to make my way through the Woodlands. Sadly the cornucopia of fungi I had hoped for had not materialised, though I did spy what appeared to be a fresh Oyster Fungi sprouting from a log by my feet.
Despite the brisk winds the air was again filled with Swallows and Martins, each following its own improvised flight plan in the gusty conditions. Robins and Great Tits could be heard singing as I left the Car Park for the Meadows, the ground squelching under my feet for the first time since winter. Old Harry Rocks were illuminated by a sunbeam piercing the surrounding clouds making for a marvellous vista as I approached the Large Copse.
Hairy Stearum was sprouting anew here, with a suspected young Dryads Saddle spreading its cap outward. Further along in Saxon Field I almost jumped for joy when I discovered a Puffball growing in the middle of the path. It’s small pearl like surface protrusions and slight tint to the cap marked it out as a Common Puffball, though it’s been a while since I’ve seen one. Good to have you back I say.
Brown Lipped Snails were a regular sight as I pushed further into the Meadows, passing Wayfaring Trees bearing fruit and browning leaves. Snippets of Wren song could be heard sporadically from the bushes and I noted several Badger latrines dug at the margins of the path.
Down on the Clifftops I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a Peregrine Falcon tilting at the wind. A few moments later the heavens opened and I had to make a mad dash for the Dolphin Hut. Don’t worry folks, my back is almost dry.
Back at the Learning Centre no sooner had I sat down than Catherine thrust a Devils Coach Horse under my nose, demanding an identification. Supposedly, crushing one of these beetles absolves you of your sins. I’m pretty sure it’s not that simple.